


(You're) What I'm Looking For

by Swing Set in December (swing_set13)



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:13:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/pseuds/Swing%20Set%20in%20December
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Stiles is the Avatar. Water Tribe represent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(You're) What I'm Looking For

**Author's Note:**

> I finished watching the first two episodes of Legend of Korra and I was so full of feelings. TOO MANY FEELINGS. I kept picturing Korra as Stiles and Mako as Derek in all of his dark and broodiness. Comments are love. Unbeta'd so be kind, comments are love! Canary sharks are all due to my mom who put up with me and my questioning her to name two unrelated animals and leaving her confused when I didn't explain why.

_Earth, Fire, Air, Water_

When I was a boy, my father, the Avatar, told me the story of how he and his friends heroically ended the hundred year war. The Avatar and the Firelord transformed the Fire Nation Colonies into the United Republic of Nations, a society of benders and non-benders from all over the world who could live and thrive together, in peace and harmony. They named the capitol of this great land Republic City. My father accomplished many remarkable things in his life. But sadly, his time in this world came to an end. And like the cycle of the seasons, the cycle of the avatar began anew.

\- Master Deacon

\---

After getting off the steamship, Stiles stretches his back, popping out the kinks. Padfoot whines softly, her head bumping under Stiles’ left elbow.

"It’s alright girl, we’ll be fine. Better than fine," grins Stiles giving his polar bear dog a rub around the ears. "We just need to find Air Temple Island."

He licks his lips thoughtfully as his stomach growls. "But let’s see if we can scrounge some curly fries."

Padfoot barks in agreement.

Stiles can't wait to start his own adventure. 

\---

"Listen, I was just trying to help," groans Stiles, sitting cuffed to the interrogation table. "Just let me talk to Master Deacon or some one in charge."

The taciturn police officer merely arches her brow. "You are talking to some one in charge, Chief Argent, at your service," she glares. 

Stiles chokes on his spit. "Chief? Then you must know-"

"I know that you broke the law-"

"I was saving that shopkeeper!" Stiles defends. "I’m the Avatar," Stiles grins feebly, holding up his cuffed hands.

"I know exactly who you are," bites Chief Argent. "It does not make you above the law."

"Oh, well-" Stiles begins, trying to backtrack.

A sharp rap at the cell door cuts him off. "Chief Argent, Master Deacon to see you."

The glare Chief Argent sends the door could melt metal. "Send him in," she growls.

Stiles’ face drops at the disappointed frown on Master Deacon’s face. Maybe stowing away to Republic City wasn’t the best way to learn air-bending.

\---

Sneaking out of the Air Temple was easier than Stiles thought. Sneaking into the Republic City’s Bending Arena seemed harder. Especially when caught five seconds into the building.

"I am sick of catching youths sneaking in without paying," growls a man with wild hair, grabbing at Stiles’ cloak. 

"I wasn’t sneaking in!" says Stiles, trying to slip out of the man’s clutches.

"Don’t try to pull the koala sheep’s wool over my eyes, bucko. Let me guess, you were looking for the bathroom?" glares the man. "I wasn’t born yesterday."

Stiles contemplates earth-bending out before they’re interrupted. He can’t afford to be arrested twice in one week. He’ll be shipped back to the South Pole before the day is out. And he’s not looking forward to the dissaproving face of his father.

"He’s with me," says a voice from behind.

"Oh really, McCall?" sputters the man.

"Absolutely, Coach Finstock," beams a shaggy haired guy around Stiles’ age, smiling with all of his teeth.

"Well, look at you, finally making friends," snarks Coach Finstock. "Keep your friends out of the training room."

"Yes, Coach," salutes McCall, tugging Stiles into the hallway quickly.

\---

After a couple of twists and turns, Scott stops in front of an empty lounge area. 

"I’m Scott," grins the boy, offering him a hand.

"Stiles, thanks for the rescue," Stiles grins returning the handshake. "I mean it man, I though he was going to feed me to the canary sharks."

Scott laughs. "Finstock is all talk, man."

"I just can’t believe I’m here," says Stiles, taking in the hallowed halls of the Arena. 

"Man, this is nothing, let me show you the best seats in the house," offers Scott, leading him further into the arena.

\---

The box seats that Scott presents to Stiles makes him gape. The whole arena is decked out in all of its splendor, more than anything Stiles ever imagined all those nights listening to matches with his dad in their hut.

"This is awesome."

"I know, right?" preens Scott. "I’m kinda a big deal here."

"You pro-bend?" asks Stiles in awe. It's been his dream to bend in the arena.

"He wishes," snorts a voice from the door. "McCall, where are the practice jerseys? Derek isn’t keep you around for your looks."

Scott turns a bright red, his fists clenched with steam. "I was getting to it, Jackson."

"See that you do, McCall, and take your loser friend here with you," Jackson glares.

"Hey, back off man," says Stiles, stepping next to Scott. This guy is just asking to be taken down. 

"I don’t know you, and I don’t care, so stay out of my way," says Jackson, pushing Stiles’ backwards and into a solid warm body.

"Whittemore," rumbles a pleasant voice behind Stiles.

Stiles nearly snorts at how pale Jackson becomes. He turns to see a ruggedly handsome teen dressed in arena battle armor. Stiles may be in love. His heart skips a beat as he takes in the older teen. 

"Hale, I was just-"

"Leaving," says Hale, nodding to the door, his aura predatory.

And Jackson flushes a dark crimson before darting out of the room leaving Stiles alone with Scott.

"Derek I was-" begins Scott but Derek hold out his hand, silencing Scott with the gesture.

Derek appraises both of them, his eyes lingering on Stiles long enough for Stiles to become twitchy.

"I don’t care, we have a match in less than an hour," Derek growls. "I don’t have time for you and your boyfriend."

"Hey, we’re not together," interrupts Stiles, gesturing between him and Scott with a look of disgust. Scott could never be further from his type. 

Derek merely arches his brow. "I was talking about Whittemore," he says dryly.

"Oh," Stiles flushes. 

Scott looks like he’s having an aneurysm. "Jackson’s not-"

"Enough," says Derek tersely. His shoulders are rigid with stress. "Bad enough Laura’s injured. We’re down a earth-bender and-"

Stiles sees his chance. "I can earth-bend!"

Derek and Scott both look at him incredulously. "I thought you were from the Water Tribe," says Scott, gesturing to Stiles’ clothes, his face pulled into a frown.

"I am," nods Stiles, grinning at his new friend. "But I can also earth-bend."

Derek’s gaze sharpens. "You’re the Avatar," he deadpans. 

"Well, _duh_."


End file.
